


It's Not Declared Cheating Unless (Only) I Do It To You

by BreakingBenFanatic



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awkward Sexual Situations, Both Minho and Alby are Whipped, Bottom Thomas, Dance before Sex, Dancer Newt, Dancer Thomas, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gally is an assbutt to Thomas, Implied Gally/Thomas, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jealousy, Lots of drama, M/M, Minho may be cheating, NOT FOR KIDS, Protective Minho, Rough Sex, Sad Minho, Sexy Times, Sorry Not Sorry, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Struggling with Sexuality, Thomas and Newt are double trouble, Thomas is a tease, Top Minho, What Was I Thinking?, gay is okay, very explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakingBenFanatic/pseuds/BreakingBenFanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Minho is running from his apartment and into a club in hopes of relieving the overbearing tension between his and his girlfriend's (who is a so-called  "Angelic Sweetheart") relationship. Hopefully this Alternative Strip place called " WICKED will show him that his relationship isn't as shitty as it seems as long as he isn't with a freak dancing in tights in order to make a living. </p><p>The life idea was shitty itself to begin with as much as it had ended. </p><p>Because now, he's laying down back in his apartment with his girlfriend beside him, thinking how he so badly wants her to be a particular beautiful male dancer.</p><p>REWRITTEN AS IN EDITED! Just a bit though</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Declared Cheating Unless (Only) I Do It To You

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I don't know why, but I'm proud

_And don't think about coming back until I'm satis-"_

Minho slams the front door to his apartment shut, forever grateful that it mostly muffles the God annoying shrill of his "Angelic Sweetheart" _Marianna_. A scowl is stretched tight upon the young Korean man's face as he roughly tugs off his work tie and jacket in hopes it will cool him down from their ( _worst_ ) argument. The autumn brisk does a little to suppress his steaming anger and tension. 

The cool wind curls around his cut jawline and sinks into the small sunkens of his cheek. Many would define him as very handsome, but he knows no matter how much envy Marianna receives from other women, she still treats him like down right klunk. Everyday after getting back from his decent job at the office, it's like Marianna had been thinking the whole time while he was gone on what to attack him for; by the time Minho walks through the door, there she is.

Her curvy figure is wrapped in a robe (a very expensive robe Minho bought for her on a business trip), her long black hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and her soft pedicured hands are rested at the curves of her hips. 

Most would see her as an "Angelic Sweetheart"... If only her slender face wasn't pulled tight with the look of a tiger going unfed, therefore _feral_. 

This argument had been about her phone breaking. 

Minho remembers vaguely how every note to her once gentle voice had increased every harsh statement until it became a  high pitched shrill. How her elegant hands waved around every direction until it wrapped around the phone and chucked it at him, barely giving him the opportunity to dodge it. She yapped and complained that if Minho had taken a better paid job, then she would have a better phone, a better home to spend  " _their_ " lives in, and of course, more money to do the things  _she_ wanted to do. 

Minho, of course, tried reasoning with her by explaining how hard he works ass off to over a  thousand a week. Even more that he smartly stores away for a future purpose. It's supposed to be a surprise.

But yet he comes home expecting a bit more gratitude from her, only to instead find that she never has anything cooked except noodles or TV dinners. He tries to tell her about those sweet little promises she made to him in highschool through college mentioning things like " _support, happiness, love and endless care_." Those promises she's breaking every _damn_ day.

Then he uses the " _I Love You_ " card, which only makes her beyond furious. 

_"If you LOVED me, I'd be happy right now!"_

_..._

The thought of her words made Minho sizzle to a crisp temper.

_Happy?!_

What's the ever fucking living  _point_ of being happy if she doesn't even let him love her anymore? He can't hold her anymore without being shoved away, he can't laugh with her without being accused of bullying, he can't even kiss her cheek because if so-said is done, it's like kissing a hungry parrot on the beak with cheese on your lips. Minho wants to love that girl who he met in highschool and gave his virginity to in college...

But that woman inside his apartment who is probably now bickering to her mother on the phone of how he's a terrible partner and whatnot, is not that girl. More like a pesky shadow or demon in every hopeless romantic's dreams. 

Sighing, he turns to a black box resting on the window sill and opens it, pulling out a pair of blue running sneakers and a grey t-shirt. He quickly pulls off his shirt and dress shoes and puts the shirt and sneakers on and stretches there for a few minutes before taking off in a paced jog, away from the apartment.  Running will cool him down, for sure, that he knows. So he takes time to run around the blocks, through various alleys, and through the busy streets. It doesn't bother Minho one bit that he's running in slacks.

He can give a damn to those watching, he has dating issues and the whole universe needs to give him a fucking break. The more he thinks about it, the faster he jogs until his jogging turns into a run, then eventually a sprint. It has him sweating and breathing heavily through his nose then out his mouth. 

His heart races like it used to race for Marianna. His legs burn like they used to when they would sneak out to go star gazing. His breath goes labor like when they used to make love in the  most passionate ways...

He pays no mind to her the second after those sweet memories burn to nothing but ashes.... All she ever does now and days is piss him off to the ends of his hairs. Her nagging, her screaming, her annoyance, her scowling, her attitude, her arrogance, and her temper. So not an "Angelic Sweetheart" anymore that's for damn sure.

Minho runs until the sun sets and it's dark. He can go longer, he used to be a state runner, before he decided to start a life with Marianna, another thing he regrets doing. But he eventually comes to a stop at a club, and honest to God- he still wonders why he ever did. Maybe it was that big bright sign... Minho gazes up at the sign that in big neon letters of blue and red read: 

_WICKED alt. Bar and Strip_

He frown a bit. Bar and Strip joint. He can't remember the last time he's been in a Bar nor Strip joint...  _Alt.; Alternative..._ Now he knows he has  _never_ stepped foot in one of those. But it has him curious and he is down right tempted to step foot in one. Yet there is one tiny problem... 

He isn't gay. Nope, he isn't... Minho doesn't recall looking at a man the way he would look at a girl with giant breasts. His family never really had anyone of that type. He's never had a friend that type... that type. Most of his co-workers are anti-social life in the business so he really doesn't know much about their sex life. So he's never really had much time to talk with someone gay about their experiences...

But... Maybe he has stared a bit too long at some dudes ass and wondered if it would feel any different than sticking his jewels up a woman's lady parts.... Marianna's lady parts...

Wait, how did that feel again? They hadn't had sex for about a few good eight months. Apparently, Marianna told him that he was getting pretty lousy at screwing her, so they had stopped with their fun times... 

Ain't that just shucking sad?

Minho kicks at the pavement and looks back up at the sign. It looks so bright that it seems more like a haven than being wicked. More like a heavenly, safe, haven to just sit back and enjoy the little things in life.... Like an opportunity to start something better again.... Would being with another guy be different than being with a bitchy girl- rephrase: being with _Marianna_? He wonders if Marianna thinks the same thing. Not being gay, but... Being with someone else. He has no doubt she does, with the way she has been lately. 

Minho nearly slaps himself silly. Wait, why the hell is he here then?! He couldn't just stop at a bar with a bunch of big titted girls instead? He nearly slaps himself again. Wait, is he honestly thinking about cheating on Marianna?! _Him_ : _Generous, Kinder_ Minho, thinking about _cheating_?! Another shame! Oh God if Marianna found out about his horrid, sinful, stupid, ignorant thoughts... 

 _Who could blame ya?,_ a naughty thought rises in the back of his mind. Minho growls and tugs at the back of his hair, trying to grip some sense back in. No, he's better than this! No matter how shitty his relationship is, he just can't... _Cheat_ on Marianna! What's the matter with him today?! All he wanted to do was go home, eat a stupid TV dinner, take a hot shower, shave a bit, masturbate a little, and go to sleep! Oh but now he is right here in front of this stupid Alt. Club, literally questioning his sexuality! Nothing is working right in his head. 

Minho doesn't realize he had been standing there for nearly fifteen minutes, thinking about decisions and mistakes he could ( _were bound_ ) to make. About going inside this gay bar/strip... What if he's drugged? Or what if he finds men appealing?! Minho is positive that he really wants to top- OH SHUCKING GOD!

"Stop thinking of cheating, you stupid shucking klunk!" he nearly yells at himself, smacking his palm against his forehead a good few times. 

 _"You having a little internal problem there, mate?"_ a firm British voice cuts through his self battle. Minho is startled and looks to his left to see a young tall, blonde haired man wearing tight brown trousers and a tight tan shirt ( _Isn't the guy freezing?_ ), watching him with mocking amusement as he leans against the street light pole. Minho frowns and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm just running" he replies curtly. The blonde man seems to see other things behind his blunt response and scoffs, taking a swift puff of his lit cigarette that is nestled between his fingers. 

"Yeah, in slacks?" he questions, eyeing Minho's pants. Minho scowls, but is not surprised to be implying insulted by his wear. "Had to get out in a hurry," he mutters. The man smirks and burns out his cigarette. 

"I see. Well, I'll by into that sort of bullshit. Now for the real game go-ers... Are you thinking about walking into that place?" 

His head nudges to the WICKED sign that seems brighter now than ever now that it is darker. Minho looks back at it too for only a second before glaring back at the stranger. It is really none of his damn business anyways, so he really does not have to explain his reasons being here... And no, he wasn't... Planning on going inside... 

The blonde British seems to see Minho's hesitation and caution. He smiles and does a mocking bow."Oh where are my manners? I'm Newt, by the way," he says with a wink. Minho stares at him a little while longer, not too sure if he should tell him anything. 

But what the hell is this scrawny guy gonna do? So with the manners he gets from his job, Minho steps forward to this _Newt_ and holds out his hand. "Minho Hong," he says firmly. Newt quirks an eyebrow as he looks down at Minho's outstretched hand like it's some sort of new species, before grabbing it and giving a firm shake. 

"Minho Hong? Sounds like something I would eat in China Town," he adds. Minho forces back the urge to roll his eyes, though he does do it mentally like several times. "Yeah, well I'm Korean, so no pun made there," he says dryly. 

Newt laughed. "Ha! Well I'll be damned. Guy with weird choice of wardrobe  _and_ sense of humor. Yup, Tommy would think you are golden." Minho cocked an eyebrow for many reasons. One, because who the hell is _Tommy_? Two, because he never thought of himself as the funny type- really wasn't able to make Marianna laugh anymore. And three, if he is on point on his name identification,  _Tommy,_ sounds like a  _guy's_ name, therefore if Newt- said _Tommy_ thinks _Minho_ is _gold_... Isn't that something people say when their bounty hunting for lovers? He doesn't bother asking.

The thought makes him shiver. If by any means, he is _not_ gay. And he hasn't decided yet if he wanted to try it for once with a guy by any means with this Tommy person. _'I should really make a move and get out of here while I can before I get dragged into some shit_ ,' Minho thought frantically to himself. Something to express his discomfort must have flashed across his face because a grin went across Newt's pretty boy face. "Oh, I see," he purred, "someone's still in their little closet." 

Minho could only show his irritation towards the way the British man bounced his light brown eyebrows. 

"No- I-I am  _so_ not inside my closet!" be defended. The other young man would have just left him at that if he didn't sputtered as bad as he sounded. 

This only made Newt bark out laughter for mere moments. "Oh wow! So you're curious then?" 

A shade of red crossed Minho's face. "No!" 

Newt made a tiny space between his index and thumb, squinting his eyes. "Not even just a tinsie bit?" 

"..."

The red grew deeper on Minho's face and as his mouth opened and closed like a fish, he just could not quite get the words " _Not even a damn bit_ " out for some reason.... Maybe because it would be a lie of he said he wasn't at all curious.

 Newt took his hesitation ( _long hesitation_ ) as a way of saying ' _I'm not gay but I wanna know what the point is and if it's better than my shucking life_ ,' and stepped forward. The once teasing gaze turned into a full on investigator on murder case gaze. He crossed his arms and purses his lip, scanning his eyes over Minho- and Minho would be lying if he said it didn't make him want to shrink into his own shadow. Finally after waiting, Newt speaks, "You know what I think?"

His voice was now soft and well put together like some interrogator, "I think you were running from something you thought was going to be paradise and special, but ended up being a terrible mistake... and now you are looking for a way out of whatever shit your in." 

Minho feels his skin heat up to an unbelievable shade of red. Newt was right on point, even if he was too much in denial to admit it. He couldn't help but glance at the sign once more. Newt's right. All that he dreamed of having with Marianna was now sadly into the dumps; being with her wasn't as bright and sunny as Minho had expected. It all seemed very dark now and he wanted to be happy as well. He wanted someone to make happiness with... He didn't really give a damn about who they were or how they looked, he just wanted someone he could lay across his chest, make love to them every night, kiss them till their lips wore out, star gaze with them on a special night, come home for a cooked meal, and most of all... To _love_. He wanted someone to _love_ and needed someone to _love him back_...  

That was the reason he had been standing here, right? He was running from something ( _his girlfriend_ ) and he does want a way out. He wants to be... _Happy_ and _loved_... 

Suddenly, he feels Newt grab onto his arm and he nearly pulls back in surprise. This guy isn't gonna... Do anything with him right? No matter how bad he wants to discover things about himself or " _find a way out_ ", he does not want to cheat on Marianna. And plus, despite Newt's pretty face, Minho himself is not very much interested. Probably it is the personality of Newt that gets in the way- or maybe, Minho automatically places him under the friends list, even though they had just barely met. Luckily, Newt sees the tiniest reaction of the Korean man and gets back that teasing smirk.

"Bah, don't get your stomach in a twist, I won't seduce you, you winnie" he chuckles, "besides, despite the charming face you are not my type. Plus, I already have a poor fellow I am trying to corrupt into ravishing my beautiful body." He bats his eyes ever so innocently.

Minho manages to laugh, small but progression to comfort. Wait, so gay guys have a _type?_ They don't just go hauling ass to the first gay guy they discover? Sound so familiar as a straight hetero relationship. "I wish you good luck," he forces out nervously.

It was still then, Minho realizes Newt is pulling him towards the doors of the club and he forces him to stop. Newt frowns and looks at him with a pout. Minho says nothing but shows his worry and shakes his head. "You won't know until you try. Sexuality rule 101," Newt states bluntly. Minho wants to pull away, wants to say that he has a girlfriend, that he's unavailable for this situation. But damn him if what Newt said wasn't so _damn_ true. 

It sounded true.... But he thinks: _What if he isn't? That this was all for nothing?_ Yeah, then he can just jog back to the apartment and sweep all this experience under the rug now that he has one problem out of the way.... 

Or maybe he can just see what this WICKED place has to offer and hopefully gets him to realize that his relationship isn't all shitty as long as he isn't with a freak dancing in tights or speedos to make a living. That he is alright where he is at his job and his apartment... Maybe he'll see the real exclusive inside of a gay man's life, probably throw up a little and for shucking once be grateful he is with a girl- even Marianna for Christ's sake! The more he thinks about this, soon enough, he takes a deep breath and nods a 'yes, continue.,' to the other young man.

Newt's eyes light up like bulbs and an excited giggle escapes him. Minho isn't much surprised or weirded out, as long as he doesn't do that if he is gay. Then, that boyish excitement on Newt is replaced with something more Cheshire Cat like. "Be ready Minho," he purrs over his shoulder, "I think I can show you someone who can make you question your  _religon."_

That doesn't sound so... Right.

* * *

 

The first thing Minho sees as he steps inside the club is that it looks like a normal strip joint. There are many lounge couches, round clear tables with poles erecting from the center and a big T-shaped stage with only three poles at each end. No one is on the stage... Yet Some type of hyping music is played in the back ground with some heavy beats and lavishing in those beats are men. Everywhere. There are men who are dressed casual or -surprisingly- in business suits, watching those dancing on the clear tables who are partly dressed or are wearing skin tight clothes, with predatory eyes. Those dressed in part and skin tight clothes (the dancers they seem), are swaying their hips in front of the fully clothed men. 

The sight of it makes Minho's eyes goggle. He watches the way their hips sway, their torsos tilt and bends, the way their bodies move in sync with the music. He watches how their faces twist and soothingly turn into many seductive expressions and some even mimic the way they would look in bed. The customers watched them calmly... Well some watch. Others grope the calves of the dancer with earns them a playful slap to the hand. Some of the more blunt men have their erections out of their pants and are lightly stroking it. The dancers ignore that and continue dancing, griping and twirling around the metal poles as graceful as they seem. 

But what Minho notices... 

Each dancer on the tables look fragile and young. Their jawlines are not so hard as his and their bodies are either lithe or lean, taking the form of a near eighteen year old. What frightens him must is that some even look younger than Newt. He tilts his head at that, but does not say anything. Instead, he looks around.

The club itself looks young- almost futuristic. White with neon lights and blinking tables. Minho eyes the bar ( _trying to remember the last time he was able to just kick back, relax, and have a nice shot of whiskey or something_ ) with a dark skinned gentleman standing behind it, playing on his phone since there is no one ordering a drink yet. Must be a very respectable, low tolerance for drunkenness, place.

The bar is somewhat glass clear, like a giant block of ice. The signs on the front- probably the menus- are all holographic as suggestions swipe across it. The stools are black leather and are held up by unrusted metal. Very clean it was as well, not a torn in the seats and not a chip on the bar. Minho feels his eyes nearly pop outside of his head. New technology  that shouldn't be invented yet is installed!  Well, it does remind him of his boss. Why is this place not packed yet?!

Newt drags the awestruck Minho to the clear counter.

The dark skinned man looks up from his game and Minho has to hold back the laugh in his belly as the man fumbles to put his phone down. 

Must be strong glass. 

"N-Newt!" the man sputters, trying to regain his posture; he stands tall with his chest a bit out and one hand on the hip as another cups the back of his shaven head. 

Minho looks at Newt and sees that Cheshire Cat look again, like Newt is just a lion messing with a mouse. Slow and graceful, Newt let's go of Minho's arm and leans forward against the bar with his ass poking straight out as he draws a lazy finger to swipe at the holographic menu. Minho sputturs a bit on his own breath because goddamn if Newt has this bartender whipped already... As it seems... "Alby, hon, can you do me me a really big favor?" Newt asks sweetly, batting his eyelashes. 

Minho feels so shucking sorry for the poor guy behind the bar. This  _Alby_ looks as if Newt is tugging on his dick. His posture- would be intimidating- stutters and he nearly knocks down a glass behind him. "Uh! Y-Yeah, go for it. Anything for you-" his eyes widen "I mean!- anything that _you need me to do-_ cuz um, I'll be happy to do it for you- I mean, _I'm getting really bored here anyways so anything to do would be nice_!" he babbles. 

Minho mentally face palms himself. Yep. Guy is  _so shucking_ whipped. This was probably the poor soul Newt was talking about seducing. That little demon has the Alby guy wrapped around his finger. 

Newt stands with both hands on his hips and brings his arms around Minho's shoulders, shaking him a bit. "We got another one on the line who needs to be put to shame by WICKED's secret little weapon!" he exclaims like it's a gladiator tournament. The Korean squirms a bit with full on nervousness.

Alby's baffled look shifts into something more serious and questioning as he eyes Minho for a second. Minho will never know how this guy that literally tripped over his own words for a pretty boy like Newt, can turn his expression to mimic the way a lion eyes a threat in mere second... And still have Minho shrinking back a bit. Alby grins just like Newt ( _Newt is corrupting him indeed_ ) and clicks his tongue. 

"Another one, you say?" he croons, "Lil Master, you sure you want to just throw him in the den like that?" 

'Did he just call Newt  _Lil Master?'_

Newt nods confidently and leans against the counter with crossed arms and legs. "It's the only way, Alby, dear," he states dramatically, "I can already tell he will be a tough nut to crack." 

"Indeed he will. Looks like  _the_ type of guy." 

"I'm sure Tommy will like playing with him." 

Minho shivers. Who the hell is this _Tommy_ guy?! And why are they talking about this Tommy like he's some gay god? Why are they chatting amongst themselves as if Minho isn't standing right there? Newt winks at the Korean man before looking innocently back at the bartender. "I say, how about you give Minho a special seat up front... Followed by a few free rounds, hm?" he asked, trailing his fingers up Alby's torso seductively. Minho could see the very visible swallow Alby takes. 

"Newt, I'm not sure Janson would like-" 

"And is kissing Janson's arse more important than me being spoiled rotten by my favorite bartender? Besides... it's not _his_ ass you should be " Newt croons then winks. Alby swallows again, very thickly. Minho could see the change in his eyes...  _that_ goddamn change. The one of giving in to his holder's words... The finger that he's wrapped around twirling to make some magic. The one he always gives Marianna when she tries to get what she wants by force. But when Alby does it to Newt holds nothing compared to betrayal or foul harm.... It holds... It hold compassion of some sort. 

Tugging on his bottom lip, Alby releases a dramatic sigh and rolls his eyes. "Ugh, I'm gonna get this deducted from my paycheck," he nutters, surprisingly full of amusement, "alright. As you wish, you blonde little demon." 

Newt's laughs and hops partly over the counter, practically jumping up on Alby with his slender arms wrapped around the bartender's neck and pecks his lips sloppily on the dark cheek. To his amazement, Minho finds the act rather normal and none too off from what he's seen before happen between straight couples. In fact, he sorta smiles softly. 

Newt's gets back down to the floor and grabs a ready glass from the black tray, before grabbing Minho's wrist again and pulling him forward. "Thanks AB! I owe you one!" he chirps. Minho could here Alby holler back, "No! You owe me twenty because that's how much that glass of liquor is!" 

He is sure Newt heard, but tended to ignore. 

Minho is taken to the front, right side of the T-shaped stage and is directed into a black cushion chair with a clear table in front of him that has a sterdy pole sticking up from it. Only, this pole is clear that creates awesome streaks of electricity, he soon figures, when it is touched. Minho is mesmerized immediately by the pole and even grips it. The streaks of electricity are rather distracting as the shoot downwards and spread across the whole clear table. "No shucking way," he whispers. 

Newt scoffs, "tell me. WICKED is a very fancy ass club, yet- spoiler alert- it is very secretive and downright private." 

Minho's eyebrows scrunch. "Which is why they have it built at the most unvisited part of town? How do they even afford this?" 

"Donno. Probably because of us." 

Minho cocks a dark eyebrow. Newt bounces his lighter ones. "The dancers, Minho. That's what I am." 

"That explains the tight attire." Minho bites his tongue by his comment, knowing that it probably sounded very rude and uncalled for. But Newt only barks out a cheerful laugh and nods. "Yeah, you can say that again. Even though I am on a work-free night, I still have to stay present here to help out Alby afterwards." 

"Sooo... Why am I here? Like in front of the stage?" 

Newt grins and glances at his watch Minho had yet to notice him wearing. It's pretty... It looks pretty damn _expensive_. Silver with a few diamonds lining on the rim. Newt ' _hmphs_ ' and places the drink in front of Minho before whispering into his ear. 

"In _three_... _Two_..." 

Minho's eyebrows furrow in question to why the blonde is counting down, but by the time Newt purrs out " _One_ ," the currently song of the club is switched and at the corner of his eye, he sees a few men wearing different attires move to take the seats held in the front of the stage. The lights dim all the way, except for the ones on the stage, which attracts Minho's eyes. There, he notices that there is a figure wearing a black hood that covers his whole body so that no one could see who is behind it. This only increases the Korean's curiosity. He glances behind him and his partially surprised to see that some of the once filled tables that held a dancer are now empty and forgotten, and the customers once sitting in them has either left (which is very few- like VERY few) or are sitting in a seat in front of the stage. 

Their eyes are trained intently on the disguised figure standing on the stage, expressions between hunger and _excitement_ , and even curiosity as well. 

The song that now surrounds them starts off very mysterious and rises so that all other noises are covered away. Suddenly, the figure moves forward, very gracefully and stops just in the middle of the T's single trail. Then another male comes from behind the curtains, only he isn't covered, but is wearing tight cut jeans and no shirt, showing his abs. He is blonde with weirdly trimmed eyebrows yet a charming face, eyes narrowed and calmed, and walks straight behind the hooded figure. 

  _~Take your nose of my keyboard..._

_What you bothering me for?..._

_There's a room full of singers..._

_What you following me for?...~_

As the song goes, he presses his back against the still figure and nudges his chin over the shoulder, using his lips to move the hem of the hood back. The light of the stage steals from the shadows of the hood, revealing pink plump lips and a pale jawline dotted with small moles that connect to a smooth pale neck. 

_~This ain't a fucking sing along..._

_So girl what you singing for?...~_

Minho watches everything the uncovered male is doing to the other male with full on attention that he barely registers what Newt whispers in his ear. 

"The one that is not wearing the cloak is Gally." 

Minho nods in understanding. But then asks, "And the one who is wearing the cloak thing?" 

He barely hears Newt chuckle.

_~Its 'cause we're blowin' like a C4,_

_got my whole crew blowin' like a C4~_

The music pauses. Gally reaches a hand in such a very slow manner, even skillfully curling his fingers around the other side of the figure's hood ( _the side not being pushed back by Gally's lips)_ and his being ever more slowly tugged back. Finally, the hood slips down and Minho is struck by the realization of what the ever loving fuck he's gotten himself into by coming here. A second of silence due to the pausing echo of the music is given, followed by most of the other men's soft hums of interest and groans of arousal. Minho knows the damn feeling as well because he too couldn't help but squirming a bit in his seat. 

The dancer in front of Gally is so... Shucking... _Beautiful_. And male. Male and _beautiful_. That scares the _hell_ outta Minho. His eyes are the most unreal color of whiskey brown, even in the dim lighting, and his hair is floppy. His pale face has high cheekbones and is smooth and isprecisely carved into somewhat boyish (near feminine) angles. The cloak hiding his body is probably hiding more of the physical beauty.

He hears Newt snort a chuckle so he is very sure that Newt could see his every action. The British dancer places a hand on his cocked hip, face content with a pleased expression by his ' _work_ ' and bounces his eyebrows, never looking away from the pair on the stage. "And  _that's_ Tommy. But most know him as Thomas." he winks at the bafffled Minho. "Only Alby and I get to call him Tommy." 

Minho hears the song come back to play and draws his attention back to ' _Thomas_ ' and Gally. 

_~They see my brain meltin',~_

Right on beat, Gally immediately releases the hood and places his palm flat against Thomas' clothed chest. Minho now desires to know what's under. The beat of the music resembles a heart and the two dancers on stage show it by swaying together. It is only till then Minho realizes Gally is moving his lips in sync with the words, right against Thomas' ear, hautly as possible. Thomas only remains still, expect bringing a hand up from out the cloak and pressing it in top of Gally's hand.

_~and the only thing I tell em,_

_Is that "I'm living for the present and the future don't exist" ~_

 Gally's other hand travel down to the flap of the cloak and twirls his fingers over the edges, before swiftly pushing it behind. The audience is revealed with a lean slender pale body covered in cute small moles and wearing some sort of leather straps across Thomas' mid section and travel down to his hips that are hugged by black tight leather pants. Minho's a goddamn liar if he says that his wife eyes just do not follow the curves of those pale hips, imagining how his hands would fit perfectly around them, wanting to bruise and mark with his finger prints- _wait what the fuck_?! 

Gally removes the other flap, this time swift and mercilessly quick, revealing the rest of the beautiful guy. His mouth is still pressed against Thomas' ear as he travels both hands down the boy's sides and on top of his stomach before they teasingly grip at the hem of his pants, taking an effort to pull them down. Minho swears he could hear the audience's desires screaming in agreement. 

_~So baby take you clothes off,_

_a chance like this~_

To their disappointment, Thomas swiftly smacks the other's hands away and makes an effort to move away, only to have Gally pull him tighter close and grip those hips again. Minho knows this is probably scripted. 

A look of predatory amusement goes across the more masculine dancer's face. 

_~You may never get to show off,_

_show off,_

_But tonight...~_

Gally's mouth travel down to the nape of Thomas' neck and as he fully removes the cloak, he nips lighty on the unmarked skin turning dark in his movements to try and "Seduce" the other male. That is _not_ Minho's emotions twisting in jealousy! 

_~I left my girl back home..._

_I don't love her no more..._

_And she'll never FUCKING know that,_

_these eyes that I'm fucking staring at~_

It is then, Minho feels his gut twist. Why does he have a feeling this song is trying to relate to him? 

The cloak falls to the floor and Thomas starts to move, starting with his hips. Unlike no other, he moves them with so much grace and seduction as if they were boobs. His hands, arms smooth of hair and pale, travel upwards until they reach the side of Gally's head and wrap around his neck. Thomas twists his head to the side and runs his lips over Gally's jaw, mockingly kissing the skin. Gally rubs his hands up and down the pale hips and ribs. 

_~You don't knooow,_

_What's in store..._

_But you know what your here for~_

He brings his lips back up and gently sucks at the lobe Thomas' ear, and the front dancer's head falls back against the taller one's shoulder. 

_~Close your eyes,_

_Lay yourself beside me~_

Then, the music alternates and Thomas swiftly pushes from Gally's chest and struts gracefully towards the pole... Very close and directly in front of Minho. Minho feels his heart stricken for a moment as he takes in the dancer up close. His eyes bulge a bit along with something in his pants he so wasn't expecting and sorta panics.  _Oh shuck me,_ he screams in his head. 

Thomas, just as he is about to grip the pole, somewhat stutters and captures Minho's gaze for a split second. The action is to quick for Minho to see what he was thinking, before the dancer smirks and firmly grips the pole with one hand. To his touch, a white streak of lighting goes up the pole, thin but still awe strucking. Then, never taking his big hazel eyes from the Korean man, Thomas makes a testing twirl around the pole, pulling a gasp from probably everyone. 

Minho swears he may have blackened out for half a second in surprise. The way Thomas had moved his hips and flexed his back around the pole as if he was trying to become a part of it was beyond mind blowing for the man. Plus, the lighting mixing with the pale skin intensified the interest.

_~ I got a test for you..._

_You say you want my heart,_

_Well you can have it all,_

_There's just something I need from you,_

_Is just to meet my boys~_

Thomas swivles his hips and grounds his ass against the pole, bending a bit for a second then arching up with his eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. He dips downward with his back pressed against the pole causing the electricity to follow wherever it can touch his skin. Minho can feel his blood run hot due to lust and quickly grasps at his cup and gulping gown a few drinks of it, never taking his eyes off of Thomas' form.

  _~ I got a lot of boys,_

_And we can make you right_

_And if you get too high then...~_

Then, Thomas takes a graceful step off the stage and right the _fuck_ on Minho's table, making the Korean nearly sputter his beverage in surprise. He shoots his eyes upwards to meet Thomas' gaze. The younger is staring down Minho like the Korean man is nothing but a helpless prisoner to his beauty and reaches back past his head, grabbing the pole with slender fingers. The whole table lights up in streaks of electricity go across the surface and up the pile, lighting Thomas up like a fucking star. 

Minho visibly gulps feeling his cock twitch.  _SHUCKING SHUCK FUCK SHIT DAMN GODDAMN MY LIFE!,_ he curses silently, but it feels louder than that. Thomas throws him a white grin and smiles a bit too brightly for being seductive before going back to his seductive expression. For some reason, Minho felt himself relax in reassurance. So he leaned back in his chair and watched the dancer. Thomas leans his head all the way back and holds hands both up around the pole before arching his back and creates wave motions with his hips and stomach.

Time seems to go in slow motion right there.

_~ Open you hand..._

_Take a glass (Take a glass)~_

Thomas twirls around the pole, mouth hung slightly open to the ceiling, sweat pouring gently down his body. 

_~ Don't be scared (Don't be scared)_

_I'm right here (I'm right here)~_

Thomas slips lower onto the table so that he's on his hands and knees and his face is directly in front of Minho's. Minho's breath hitches. The dancer is ten times beautiful...

  _~Even though (Even though)_

_You don't roll (You don't roll)~_

Thomas's eyes go half lidded and he crawls forward, motioning his back to swerve his hips in a cat crawl. Minho fights his eyes from going to that leather clothed ass sticking to the air openly. Like an invention. 

_~ Trust me girl (Trust me girl)~_

Finally once he's at the edge, Thomas licks his lips- his tongue slowly skimming the tip then bottom, and crawls onto Minho's thighs, fully seated on his lap. Minho feels his cock twitch even more. Probably creating a bigger bulge. He feels very uncomfortable and out of his zone. Confusion, frustration, and pent up anger levels inside of him when he doesn't even try to protest against these actions. 

He should push _Thomas_ the hell off- then declare that he's with Marianna, declare that he is straight ( _even though now, that is much of a pretty damned lie)_... But now he only looks into those big whiskey brown eyes and dark long lashes. He with captured _awe_. He is very confused why Thomas mirrors his expression. Slowly ( _Minho dares to ask if it was hesitation_ ) Thomas brings his naked arms around Minho's shoulders and licks his lips again, only this time, it is quick and instinctive. 

_~You wanna be high for this~_

Then, Thomas begins to move. And the sound around them becomes deaf to Minho. Thomas moves his chest to brush against Minho's more broad and muscluar chest, back moving up and down like a snake and his ass starts grinding down soft upon the lap of the Korean man. Their groins barely brush and it sends a shock through Minho that he could barely surpress a groan. The dancer hesitates, just to fucking _smirk_ and then continues the action repeatedly with different flavors in his movements. First, it's slow, then it's strict, then it's quick, then it's gentle. Minho hastily grips onto those hips, realizing his one wish ( _one denial killing wish_ ) he admittedly desired most when first seeing Thomas' body, is granted. 

Only, he is careful not to grip hard or bruise. Thomas seems to enjoy his act, for he tilts his head back, exposing his neck but never stops moving. Flashes of pictures and thoughts in Minho's imagination run through his lust fogged mind... Like seeing Thomas like this in bed; When the dancer straddling him just like this and moans of explicit pleasure are passing those pink full lips. And Minho is gripping those pale hips tighter in a bruising pressure as he is thrusting upwards... As Thomas is bouncing to reach his Haven of orgasming pleasure... 

Minho blinks slowly, captured truly by the affection the dancer is giving him. They're so damn close, pressed against each other and it has never felt so damn good. Not even Marianna has made Minho feel this sort of way when they were close or touching or " _making love_." 

A _stranger_... A _stranger_ is making Minho feel... Feel... 

Thomas' hand moves behind Minho's head, fingers gently gripping the short black hairs and then gently combing through them.... Minho leans slightly in the touch, feeling content as ever and closes his eyes shut. He hardly realizes that he's facing upwards to Thomas... gradually leaning further... neck craning and eyes wanting to drift shut...

And then only notices it when the feel of soft lips press against his more dry ones... 

And his being freezes completely. 

Minho's eyes shoot open to see Thomas face lined in with his, dark curled eyelashes resting upon the pale cheek of the dancer and face fully relaxed. Minho's mind and heart races. Though the kiss is simple,... It's still a _kiss_. From someone else who wasn't his lover. He should definitely now push away and yell at the dancer for doing such.... But he doesn't... 

He should feel guilty for even walking in place... 

He doesn't...

He should hate himself for growing a sudden interest in this beautiful dancer and his moving hips.... 

He. _Shucking_. Doesn't.

A few short seconds pass before Thomas' eyes snap open a bit too quick, even for Minho to realize, yet the younger blinks once and then calmly, and slowly pulls away. Eyes flutter with an unreadable expression behind them which leaves Minho and him staring at each other. Minho thinks that it's Thomas' que to start leaving towards the stage because the dancer gets up from the spot on Minho's lap and sashes back up the stage steps. As if nothing happened. There, he meets Gally who had been standing there with folded arms ( _was he supposed to be doing anything else like owning the pole or was he just watching Thomas?_ ). The look written upon the more masculine dancer is dark and dare Minho say it, _jealous_. His eyebrows are drawn together and a scowl is on his lips and... he's glaring directly at Minho. 

Minho swallows thickly. _Did I do something wrong_?, he dumbly asks himself.

Thomas comes back in front of Gally and his back is turned towards Minho. Curse Minho for his pride rebellious thoughts but... Thomas' ass is like, literally on display for everyone as he reaches a hand to gently brush down the taller dancer's jaw. Gally takes his focus from Minho to look down at Thomas with a predatory gaze. Then, he runs a hand across the small shorter male's back and pulls him in, capturing Thomas' lips in his own. Minho would say that the action was unscripted due to the way Thomas' body jolted a bit, but he won't let his eyes deceive him. 

Gally turns Thomas more to the side so that Minho has a good view of their lips moving in sync. Thomas' eyes are at first narrowed and his brows are scrunched in a confused look, but his eyes eventually drift shut and his lips reply back. As Thomas' eyes are closed, Gally's remains open and they glare at Minho from their corners. Minho sees the faint smirk stretch over Gally's busy lips. It's a clear sign of possession.

For some reason, it makes Minho's blood boil. He couldn't tell if it was jealousy or... Betrayal. What the actual _shucking_ _shuck_?

Finally, thank whatever goodness there was in this situation , the dancers pull apart and they both leave the stage as the music dies away. Minho feels a part of himself die as well. 

The place ends in silence and claps erupt the room. Minho still sits there, shocked to comprehend what the hell had just happened. 

_"Ho. Lee. SHIT! That was so bloody fucking unexpected!"_

Minho fully jumps from his chair by the interruption of Newt's voice. He had forgotten about the little British dancer and suddenly feels suck to his stomach, because holy fuck Newt was right. "I think I need to go," he forces out. The Korean is unable to look at Newt even though the blond is trying to move around and in front of him. "Whoa whoa! What's the matter, mate?" The dancer's voice is filled with honest concern... And somewhat _amusement_?! 

Minho feels suddenly angry. Why the _fuck_ is this amusing!? He practically _CHEATED_ tonight! On a woman he promised he'd never cheat on! Oh God, he's a fucking _disgrace_ to her family, her, and himself! He should run back home while he still has a chance to back away from this bullshit. 

"Minho! Come one Minho, I think you have discovered something about yourself!" 

He doesn't need to hear the rest because it's _true_... "Leave me alone!" he hollers back before storming out the club for what he hopes is forever...

* * *

He sprints all the way back to his apartment, and would have never stopped so often if it wasn't for restricting walk lights. His heart doubles its racing and his legs barely tire. He nearly trips over himself a few times once he meets the more grassy part of the lawn that surrounds his apartment in which he nearly throws himself into. He hastily locks the door with trembling hands and slides down with his back against the wood of it. His hair is plastered against his damp forehead and sweat soaks his body. The slacks are becoming more uncomfortable. 

The events of tonight race through his mind in a frenzied manner too fast for him to piece all together. All that he knows is _1_... He cheated on Marianna... 

 _2_... He cheated on her with a fucking  _guy. And if that isn't fucking revolting enough._

 _3_... Going into that damned WICKED place was a shitty plan to begin with... 

And _4_... He liked everything.

Minho brings his hand up to wipe away the sweat, only to stop when his palm presses against his lips. He halts and blinks for a moment, pressing repeatedly on the dry lips... He can still feel certain soft ones other than his hand and to him, it's damn terrifyingly haunting. Because it wasn't Marianna's lips he was thinking about. The way that small kiss went was electrifying... And felt like... 

Minho drifted his eyes shut, thinking back to those big whiskey eyes when their lips met- his and Thomas'; the way those whiskey eyes opened with an expression of confusion, just like Minho's. Minho is a business man, and can read expressions pretty damn well, so what he saw in ' _Thomas_ ' had many mixed emotions. And then the look Gally had when Thomas separated from Minho. The taller dancer had been aggravated and angry when after Thomas' little toying with Minho. Like Gally didn't want anyone touching the more lithe dancer. 

Or maybe...

Something in Minho clicked and with wide eyes of realization, he whispered to himself, "It _was_ unscripted..." 

 _"There you are!"_ the annoyed voice of Marianna came from ahead. Minho shot his head up to the young woman, not surprised to see her face covered in a green cream mask, that looked very unattractive and kinda scary when put together with her long scowl. She studied Minho's form and her face scrunched. 

"Ew. Why are you getting your body fluids over the floor? And why do you look like you ran a marathon, Minho?" she asked with disgust edging in her snarky tone. For nearly the hundredth time of the day, Minho mentally rolled his eyes. "I donno, Marianna," he grumbled, "I may have-" **_cheated on you_ ** "done something in life" **_it was was with a guy_ ** "besides sit here twenty four seven-" **_and I hauled ass back over here to this hell hole because I kind of liked it._**

Marianna did not like his response and cocked her hip with both hands on each one, pursing her delicate plump lips. "Oh really? If you're going to have that attitude you should just leave, Minho!" she barked, pointing to the front door. Minho frowned deeper and stood tall and crossed his arms, "Oh yeah? And what will you do when I'm gone? _Work_?" he challenged with a scoff. Marianna didn't reply and swished away. 

"Whatever!" 

Minho clenched his teeth and stomped after her, following her to the kitchen. There was still no food yet another thing not to be surprised about. But that was not important at the moment. After everything that took place tonight, Minho needed to spill everything he's been burdening in his chest about his relationship before it became too late to save it. 

"Listen Maria," he begged, "things aren't going as we planned anymore- this whole _bullshit_ and whatnot!" 

Marianna turned back to him with an unimpressed caring glare. "Oh and I wonder why," she growled sarcastically. Minho nearly fumed red. "Marianna you won't even let me touch you anymore or love you! Don't you care that our relationship is falling apart?! Did we not promise to have each other's back ever since highschool? That one day we'll start a family and live happy with one another? Don't you remember those promises we made when we snuck out almost every damn night? When we made love?" His eyes threatened to water, "I gave you everything that night. I am still giving you everything! And soon, I promise you, you won't have nothing but paradise." 

Marianna only started at him with a blank  _bored_ face, as if his words hardly meant klunk to her stubborn mind. Instead, when Minho tried to envelope her in an embrace, she shrugged him away and hissed, "Not... _Happy_ , Minho. This isn't a shitty fairytale if yours, this is _reality_! And either you can discover that sooner or watch me leave." 

Minho felt himself breaking by every word that fell from those precious lips he used to worship. "But... Marianna... I love you, I wanna be happy with you... Aren't we enough for each other?!" He nearly yelled at the last part, making Marianna flinch and cover her ears in aggravation. "Stop! You're gonna wake the neighbors with your screaming." 

Minho sagged his shoulders in defeat, turning away, forgetting his hunger and heading towards the stairs. "Sorry..." he murmured. Half way up the first three steps, he stopped and looked back at the clone of the woman he once loved for. A tear fell down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Maria... For whatever I did so wrong to make you hate me so much. I'm sorry." 

She only waved a hand of silence at his way before going back to studying her nails.

* * *

 

That night as Minho laid in bed, a foot away from Marianna and her curled, he stared up at the ceiling in thought. He thought about the aroma of WICKED... He thought about that annoying humor of Newt that at the same time, helped him relax in his state of tense... He thought about the way Newt made poor Alby's spastic, which made Minho smile because he wasn't used to seeing a man that intimidating fall into the paws of a teasing pretty boy... He thought about the dancer on the table, how they looked so calm in doing something that would make others tilt their heads... 

Then he thought about Thomas.... The song that one beautiful dancer was swaying those hips that were hugged delectably by leather, rang throughout Minho's head. He started to hum the best he could remember it, secretly reminding himself to look it up on the internet in the near future. Each note he hummed, pictures in his head flashed, all of them being a certain amber eyed, milky skinned, dancer. Those hips, when they swayed and that back when it arched... And that ass. When it grounded on his lap and near his crotch. Covered in leather, yet Minho could picture a pair of perfectly pale round globes waiting to be spread and... 

Minho stops his dark thoughts when he realizes the familiar feeling of his dick reacting to the mental images. "Well I'll be damned and shucked," he whispers tugging at the mess of his hair. He licks his dry lips and looks at Marianna. His arousal almost immediately dampens and a feeling of empty sadness replaces it. She doesn't love him anymore... She only loves herself... 

Minho wants to do desperately grab the woman and pull her close into his chest, recreating those dead promises and make her smile again. But right now, he's not even sure if she herself can make him smile anymore as well. Minho bites at his lips and reaches a hand to touch her shoulder, but as she can feel his hand before it can even make contact, she moves further away, hogging the covers to herself as well, leaving Minho's torso victim to the night chill in their room... Or it could just be her causing that chilk. 

Minho sighs deeply and turns his back away from her, curling into himself. He goes back to thinking about WICKED and Thomas, and Newt and Alby... They made him feel at a level of comfort and relaxation he hasn't felt in a while... Then the song, a certain part gets him and it makes his stomach twist as that beautiful face of Thomas appears. 

_~I left my girl back home...~_

Minho, without a tone or a tune, whispers emptily but with realization. "I don't love her no more..."

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Minho!!! 
> 
> I DO NOT OWN MAZE RUNNER OR THE SONG
> 
> Song: The weeknd trilogy by Somo


End file.
